I wanted to get this blog going and as my first initial "review" seems to take ages and I wanted to ramble about something, I might as well ramble about Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain. It was released in 1924 and since I don't read or speak Germany I had to resort to a translation.
The story takes place just before World War I, as young Hans Castorp travels to visit his cousin who is currently residing in a sanitarium for his mild but persistent lung problems. At the end of the visit Hans Castorp (his whole name is used every time in the story) learns that he might have a case of early respiratory symptoms himself, and that it would be better to stay in Davos (Switzerland) to avoid the hassle of returning to home only to travel back when the condition gets worse. And so he stays, reluctantly, suspicious about the atmosphere and unusual folk, both residents and employees.
One week becomes a month and months become years. Does the picturesque sanatorium become a part of Hans Castorp or the other way around? Is sickness just an excuse to stay longer in the paradise?
The Magic Mountain is an illusion. It tempts people to stay a while, to heal, to take a break from the demands of society and return once fully rejuvenated, but then you're already hooked. As a human you're never really in your full capacity, in maximum efficiency, one could always work and try harder, and thus one could also stay in the sanatorium forever. What sickness even is?
The longer Hans Castorp stays in Davos the harder it is to return back to his old life. Slowly this old self makes room for a thinking man, Hans Castorp 2.0 if you will, who has his own ideas. Italian humanist Settembrini warns him that this is not real and that young mister Castorp should consider his stay only as a temporary solution. He emphasizes that Hans Castorp is far too young to resign from the world of the living. The sweet temptation of carefree routine seems to seduce them all.
Davos is a beautiful bubble, hidden high up on the mountains where life has a peculiar rhythm to it. Death is just a hush-hush job behind closed doors, reduced to a mere inconvenience. There's great food, wine, even parties and activities to keep the mind occupied. Why would anyone sane want to leave?
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